At the touch of your hand
by krakelia
Summary: Slash alert and possible AU? Harry and Draco are at advanced magic school together. It's post war and they're trying to find a way to co-exist. This leads to their hook-up and how they get through it alive and bruised.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Thank you for stopping by. This might be a bit slow building. It is my first, and I was trying to find out if I dared write a complete story. So bear with me, because I don't completely know how this will end up. If wish be, I can make names for the chapters in here instead of calling them… well, chappies.

Disclaimer: No, no- not mine. All belongs to JK Rowling. Strictly for fun. I would sooner scratch out my eyes, blow out my hearing and walk right out into traffic with only a white cane than claim or use anything that does not belong to me.

**At the touch of your hand**

**Chapter 1:**

It was pretty crowded in the hallways at the Academy for higher magic. Everyone was hurrying to different classes and Harry himself was on his way to one of his more demanding auror-subjects. 'Advanced transfiguration and cloaking science' wasn't his best topic and he was worried about not keeping up with the work.

'Defense and capturing strategies' was more his thing. So he was walking deep in concentration and with a frown on his face when it happened. Something brushed past his knotted and tight right hand in the passing.

It had been the softest touch, but he had felt it. It was like… fingers trailing over the back of his hand. Of course it could have happened by chance or accident. Normally he would've dismissed it as such, but this had felt like it was done with intent, and Harry felt compelled to turn around and check. That made him balk.

The only one walking behind Harry in a straight trajectory was Malfoy. But that was stupid. It couldn't have been him. Last time he checked they weren't talking to each other. They didn't interact at all. The only thing they had in common was that they attended the same school.

They took two entirely different majors so they didn't even have any joint subjects. And it had been wonderful. It was a blessing going to school without having to constantly be on the watch for what that ass and his cronies were going to do next to embarrass him.

But this time around they were both alone. Neither of their friends was going here. Hermione was away at an entirely different school studying to becoming a healer and Ron had joined his brothers' business. And what Malfoy's supposed friends were doing he didn't know nor did he care. They were traitors in his eyes anyway.

Harry repeated to himself for god knows how many a time that Malfoy was in truth a traitor too. And yet he had helped him get back into society after all the imprisonments and trials. Lucius had been judged hard, and Harry thought he deserved everything that was coming to him. In truth he really felt that Draco should have some of it too.

When his case came up he had his mind set on bringing him down as hard as he could. But when push came to shove, he had not been able to do it. Draco had looked broken beyond repair. This was one of the reasons why Harry had felt forced to help him.

One other important piece of the puzzle was recognizing that Draco had been just as impressionable and vulnerable as he himself when growing up. Difference was that Draco had not had those wonderful people around him that Harry eventually got. And despite all the bad shit they had, in-between the mouth offs and trying to kill each other, in more or less apparent ways taken it in turns to keeping each other alive.

But the last and greatest reason was the risk Draco's mother had taken for him. She had right out lied to the worst black wizard in the history of time. Thereby saving his life and giving him the chance that he needed to kill that son of a bitch Voldemort for the last and 8th time.

He stood in a debt of gratitude towards her and he knew it. So he had done the only thing he could. Witness in Draco's good favor, securing him a reduced sentence and the chance to put his life straight again.

Still it was a nasty surprise when he found out that Draco had applied for higher magic school too. He had thought that was it. All hell was going to break loose again. Fighting, arguing and of course the general mayhem of trying in every way to make life as miserable as possible for each other.

But instead there had been nothing. Two months at the same school and not even a harsh word, only hastily averted eyes if they ever met briefly across the hall. So what was this thing just now? Had it simply been an accident or was it not him at all?

Harry was after all the only one that had turned and stopped. Malfoy hadn't made the slightest hint of turning his head, not even a little, to check for a reaction. He had just walked away with his ever upright back to Harry, looking like the stuck-up person he had always been.

No, Harry decided. If it was Malfoy who had done that, it was just to mess with his head. He was bored and wanted to find a way to start picking on Harry again but couldn't do it as openly as before. So he was going to work on it in quiet.

That sounded like the Malfoy thing to do. But it would not work. He was not about to let it get to him, so he decided to just forget about the whole shebang and in the future act like nothing had ever happened.

And really, it had been a small thing, so why was he making such a big deal out of it. No, dismissing it as an accident and a trick of the mind was the right option.

Unfortunately that was going to prove difficult to do. There was something in particular that had made Harry turn around in the first place. When the possibly unknown hand had touched his, he thought he felt a pleasant tingle underneath his skin. It had felt nice, and that had made him curious. But instead of pleasantness he had felt horror when he turned around and found out who it was. He felt like his hands were dirty and he tried to wash away the stains. He scolded them to the point of blisters and froze them almost to ice cubes. It got him nowhere. So much for trying to forget about it he thought to himself.

And then it had happened again. He was walking in his own thoughts, and then he felt someone's fingers touch his. But it didn't last long enough for him to react. He stopped abruptly and turned on the spot.

Malfoy was there again, walking away faster this time but still not turning around. Harry's heart was beating and his breath had speeded up a notch. It had definitely not been in his imagination this time, and it could not be a coincidence that Malfoy was there this time too.

He touched his hand with his other hand and stared at it. It had felt so warm and nice, even though it had lasted so briefly. He rushed off to scrub the feeling away.

The next time Harry saw Draco was in the mass hall for dinner. He spotted him sitting at a table alone. Coldness filled him and he decided to go straight up to him and ask what he was doing. Grabbing his tray of food he headed for the table breathing heavily trying to drum up some nerve.

There was still a possibility that this was a mistake and then it would be Harry's fault things went to pieces between them again.

But Malfoy looked up at the wrong moment and saw him coming. He stood up and walked straight out of the dining hall passing two table rows away from him. Typical Slytherin, being a damned chicken shit, Harry thought and sat down clattering his tray to the table.

Something was definitely up. Suddenly they started seeing each other everywhere. Or so Harry thought at least. He felt sure that Draco had to have some scheme to drive him out of his mind.

Their eyes met and locked for a little while, only to be hastily withdrawn the nanosecond before it got unnatural. And even though he tried to start a conversation with that elusive control freak, he always managed to find a way out of it.

It was pissing Harry off. So he made a decision. The next time it happened he was going to reciprocate the action and see what happened. Beating Malfoy at his own game was the only way of dealing with him. Harry really should have remembered that from the past.

He just about knew the schedule now. What times during the week they would usually be in the same hallway and when their classes ended. So he prepared himself for the next time. He walked as cool and casual as he could, with his hand loose by his side.

But inside his heart was beating fast and he felt anxious. Anxiety quickly turned to anger however. Malfoy wasn't there! God damned it! And now that he finally had found a way to get back at him. While he was fuming and wondering what had ever happened to Malfoy he opened the door to his class.

And there he was! Sitting right there at the benches in the back. Well he was in the right place, but Malfoy on the other hand clearly could not be. How annoying! Was he really going to have to share classes with this idiot again? It had been so good being without him.

Harry marched over to Malfoy and sat down at the row in front of him. He turned to talk to him, but Malfoy wasn't there anymore. He had moved. Man, was he quick!

If he moved after him now it would seem suspicious. But why in God's name would he come to this lecture now that long after the start of the semester? Deciding that it was another stage in the "annoy Harry plan" he opened his books and listened to the professor in silent rage.

Needless to say that the lecture didn't get the attention it probably should have. Instead plans about how to finally give Malfoy a piece of his mind was forming rapidly. That is why he didn't register the end of lecture and the departure of the one he was obsessing over.

That also cost him the opportunity to see the hand stroking him in the back of his neck before it had passed and vanished. The touch sent shivers down his entire spine and caused him to gasp.

This was totally unacceptable! Malfoy just couldn't come here and do things like that. It was disgusting the way he was taunting him with his little stunts. It was getting to him and he knew it. He rubbed and scratched at his neck to get rid of the tingling feeling.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Reviews are loved greatly, but I stress the fact that just reading too is an honor to which I bow must humbly. Takk for din oppmerksomhet!

**Chapter 2:**

It was the last lecture of the day, and the entire class was yawning. 'Auror code of conduct' was a particularly boring subject. The professor was droning on about how to treat wrongfully accused perpetrators. Most students had their minds in other places and Harry was no exception. It was an ample opportunity to let his mind wander into Malfoy-musing mode.

Day to day life wasn't the same anymore. Everywhere Harry went he kept looking over his shoulder for Draco, catching a glimpse of him here or there but never actually bumping into him. When he didn't see him, he was on edge all the time afraid of what was going to happen if he was caught off guard. And when he did see him, there was this weird trickle of flush that he quickly had to quench.

This confused and disturbed Harry. He couldn't quite concentrate on anything, and he lay awake countless of hours during the week banging himself up about it. This was much worse than all those full scale fights they had back at Hogwarts. It had been hell when they lasted, but now he wished himself back there. Everything was better than this psychological terror.

There had been nothing for a couple of months. Then, out of the blue, during the course of three weeks time, they had brushed skin three times and now he was starting to get these jolts every time he saw that conniving son of a bitch. He had asked himself so many times if this was his plan, to drive him mentally insane just for kicks.

It was disconcerting that Malfoy wouldn't talk to him. That much was for certain because he had tried several times. So maybe there was a reason for that too, maybe he thought that if they talked he would give himself away somehow. A thesis was forming in Harry's mind, and it was going to be put to the test today.

Almost getting up to leave right away, he remembered that he was still in class. It would have to wait until after. Malfoy wouldn't even be out of his classes yet anyway. Crap, he thought to himself, a little embarrassed.

He took his time walking out in the hall after they were dismissed. The timing had to be perfect. To everybody else it had to look innocent and unintentional. But this would mean something for him.

The idea was to test if this feeling was something that came along only when Malfoy made the choice to come into contact with him, if it was some spell Malfoy transferred to him at his will. It was necessary to be just as stealthy as him and catch him when he was unaware of it.

It was the only way to check if the tingling came without the others involvement at all. Deluding himself into not hearing the very faint of growl from within him, he thought to himself: 'Pray the lords that it doesn't come.'

The last time an attempt like this was made, the subject in question didn't show up for the test. This time, however it did. Treating him as an 'it' made it easier to create a semblance of distance towards the whole thing.

Because the nervousness was now at a height where it was threatening to take over completel,y and chickening out seemed much easier than sticking to the plan. But the Gryffindor in Harry demanded that he stood his ground even in the face of complete fiasco. The curiosity of 'wanting to know' also made its presence known quite clearly.

Annoyance blended in with anxiety. The subject of pursuit was hanging around outside of the classroom kissing-up to some professor Harry had never seen before. If he skulked here for too long people might start to look at him weird, or worse still, talk to him. People tended to do that, make up some excuse just so they could have a good look at him. You'd think they were bored of all that, but it didn't seem like it.

At last he started walking. That old power of making people give way hadn't disappeared even though he wasn't exactly on the top of the food chain anymore. It was probably due to the cold grey eyes, slender forms and smooth way of moving around. Looking over everybody else and radiating a don't-dare-touch-me-aura. His blonde hair was always perfect in place folding around his forehand and neck, swishing in just the right places when he turned his head.

"Shut the fuck up", Harry told himself. This was no time to be admiring…

No not admiring, thinking about, the attitude of his stalker victim. But the way he held himself really was rather impressive… Nervousness was building itself up in Harry again. At least he thought it was nervousness, but it felt more like… butterflies.

God, he was a sap. This was just confusing and annoying. Better try to concentrate on the present. He convinced himself that he was doing this just so he could find out what hex he was put under, and shifted his focus to the task at hand.

Malfoy had a bag over his left shoulder, and a newspaper in his hand. As they turned a corner into another corridor Harry caught a glimpse of his face. The window let the sun through and a bright ray trailed along his facial lines.

That small frown, indicating deep concentration in the article, the mouth moving in a slight mocking gesture, his hair fell somewhat into his eyes which made him lift his right hand to brush it away. It looked absolutely beautiful. The whole scene took about three seconds but it made Harry snap for air as if he had been holding his breath.

However, he needed hits wits about him so he shook his head firmly. This was the moment. They were quite close now, and when Malfoy lowered his hand, he would cease his chance and let his fingers pass over the back of his hand as he knotted it.

Careful to not to make himself noticed he quietly snuck up behind Draco and prepared for overtaking him. He stretched out his fingers; Malfoy lowered his hand right on cue. But Harry had misjudged his gesture. He stretched out his fingers exactly like Harry. Like this their hands wasn't going to pass over each other, they were going to interlock!

But it was too late to figure out another move now. He would have to adjust so that he wouldn't get trapped in the grip. An uninvited image of them holding hands and smiling at each other came and went almost before it could be registered. In the second following that, Harry was at the passing point. His ears blocked out the noise from the rest of the people around them, so that it sounded like the pounding in his chest was as loud as a marching band.

This _one_ maneuver would confirm that all the flurry of emotions was due to some control spell, it was vital to follow through. He let his left arm swing casually by his side and tried to keep his gaze from fixating on it. Malfoys' hand was open and had reached his side. Harry was centimeters from it now, but to his horror he saw out of the corner of his eye that Malfoy was about to lift his head and turn it slowly to his right.

It was now a matter of urgency. He brought his hand forward and let it trail along the open palm and lacing his fingers in with Malfoys. There was no way of resisting to look at their hands when they met. The touch felt like sparks that ran all the way up through his arm and into his neck where memories of the caress he had been given before still lingered.

Malfoy noticed it immediately. His head snapped up in wide surprise, and with a fearful expression he turned it hurriedly to his right. That was in the exact moment that Harry took one step ahead of Malfoy to pass him. Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. Foregoing coolness for the sake of needing to see what was going to happen, Harry looked up. This caused their eyes to meet. Damn him for not being able to control himself the way Malfoy could.

Harry could feel from the twitch in Malfoy's fingers that he was about to close them, as if he wanted to hold on to the gesture. There was no time to think about the reason for him wanting to do so. For now it was Harry who had the upper hand, and he didn't want to lose it by letting himself be captured. Just as he took the second step away and right before Malfoy's hand closed, he managed to twist his own hand free. A sense of loss from where the connection was broken coursed through Harry.

He chided himself and hurried off as fast as he could. But the temptation of looking back got too strong. Malfoy had actually stopped dead in his track and was looking at his clenched hand with bewilderment. But he must have noticed he was being watched because he looked up and fixed Harry with a murky expression. He turned his head and walked away even faster.


End file.
